Kitabı oku: «St Piran's: Daredevil, Doctor…Dad!»
Welcome to the world of St Piran’s Hospital—
Next to the rugged shores of Penhally Bay lies the picturesque Cornish town of St Piran, where you’ll find a bustling hospital famed for the dedication, talent and passion of its staff—on and off the wards!
Under the warmth of the Cornish sun, Italian doctors, heart surgeons and playboy princes discover that romance blossoms in the most unlikely of places …
You’ll also meet the devilishly handsome Dr Josh O’Hara and the beautiful, fragile Megan Phillips … and discover the secret that tore these star-crossed lovers apart.
Turn the page to step into St Piran’s—where every drama has a dreamy doctor … and a happy ending.
Dear Reader
Having written SPANISH DOCTOR, PREGNANT MIDWIFE, based in Penhally Bay, I was delighted to be asked to contribute to the new series set in and around St Piran’s Hospital.
I was especially pleased to spend some time with the characters on the rugged coast of Cornwall, a part of the world I love, and which is very similar to the West Coast of Scotland where I live now.
This is the story of extreme sport fanatic Mac, who is a doctor with the Royal Cornwall Air Ambulance Service, and Abby, single mum and air ambulance paramedic.
When committed bachelor Mac meets Abby he is immediately attracted to her. Soon after he finds out that Abby has a secret that is about to turn his life upside down, and he learns that loving involves taking risks too.
I hope you enjoy reading Mac and Abby’s story, and would love to hear from you—my blog is on the eHarlequin website: www.eharlequin.com
Anne Fraser
ST PIRAN’S HOSPITAL Where every drama has a dreamy doctor… and a happy ending.
In December we gave you the first two St Piran’s stories in one month!
Nick Tremayne and Kate Althorp finally got their happy-ever-after in: ST PIRAN’S: THE WEDDING OF THE YEAR by Caroline Anderson
Dr Izzy Bailey was swept off her feet by sexy Spaniard Diego Ramirez: ST PIRAN’S: RESCUING PREGNANT CINDERELLA by Carol Marinelli
In January the arrival of sizzlingly hot Italian neurosurgeon Giovanni Corezzi was enough to make any woman forget the cold! ST PIRAN’S: ITALIAN SURGEON, FORBIDDEN BRIDE by Margaret McDonagh
This month daredevil doc William MacNeil unexpectedly discovers that he’s a father in: ST PIRAN’S: DAREDEVIL, DOCTOR … DAD! by Anne Fraser
The new heart surgeon has everyone’s pulses racing in March ST PIRAN’S: THE BROODING HEART SURGEON by Alison Roberts
Fireman Tom Nicholson steals Flora Loveday’s heart in April ST PIRAN’S: THE FIREMAN AND NURSE LOVEDAY by Kate Hardy
Newborn twins could just bring a May marriage miracle for Brianna and Connor Taylor ST PIRAN’S: TINY MIRACLE TWINS by Maggie Kingsley
And playboy Prince Alessandro Cavalieri honours St Piran’s with a visit in June ST PIRAN’S: PRINCE ON THE CHILDREN’S WARD by Sarah Morgan
About the Author
ANNE FRASER was born in Scotland, but brought up in South Africa. After she left school she returned to the birthplace of her parents, the remote Western Islands of Scotland. She left there to train as a nurse, before going on to university to study English Literature. After the birth of her first child she and her doctor husband travelled the world, working in rural Africa, Australia and Northern Canada. Anne still works in the health sector. To relax, she enjoys spending time with her family, reading, walking and travelling.
Recent titles by the same author:
PRINCE CHARMING OF HARLEY STREET
RESCUED: MOTHER AND BABY
MIRACLE: MARRIAGE REUNITED
SPANISH DOCTOR, PREGNANT MIDWIFE*
* The Brides of Penhally Bay
ST PIRAN’S: DAREDEVIL, DOCTOR … DAD!
ANNE FRASER
MILLS & BOON
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CHAPTER ONE
ABBY sank onto the sofa transfixed by what was happening on the TV screen. At the end of a rope, a man was being lowered out of a Royal Navy helicopter. Abby held her breath as the figure swirled precariously in the buffeting wind. She had put on the TV to catch the weather report but now she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the drama unfolding in front of her.
Beneath the helicopter a boat was listing dangerously to one side, obviously in serious trouble. The reporter covering the story was telling the viewers that the Royal Navy rescue service had been called out to the stricken vessel. ‘The family of four were on a sailing trip when they got into trouble off the Cornish coast. Heavy seas pushed their boat onto rocks and it is now taking on water rapidly. We have heard that the helmsman took a heavy blow to his head and is unconscious. His wife, who radioed for help, and their two young children, are still on board.’
Although the newscaster’s expression was calm, Abby could detect suppressed tension in her voice. ‘The helicopter crew has only a short time to get everyone off before the boat sinks. We understand that there is a doctor helping from the Royal Cornwall Air Ambulance Service.’
The man at the end of the winch dropped onto the listing boat, unhooked himself from the line and slithered his way across the deck. Within minutes he was being lifted back on board the helicopter, with two small figures attached to him like clams.
He swiftly dropped down to the boat again, retrieving another person from the stricken yacht. Heart in her mouth, Abby leaned forward. The injured skipper was still on the boat! Could he be rescued before the yacht sank, taking him and his rescuer along with it? If he had a head injury, as the newscaster was suggesting, then it would be dangerous to move him. But what other option was there? To leave him would be unthinkable.
The downdraught from the helicopter whipped the sea into a frenzy. Nearby, a coastguard rescue boat was making valiant attempts to approach the yacht but the heavy waves were preventing it from getting anywhere close. Abby squeezed her eyes closed. She could hardly bear to watch.
‘A second man is being lowered onto the boat.’ The newscaster’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘We understand he’s a doctor.’
Abby opened her eyes. Sure enough, she could just make out the letters on the fluorescent jacket of the second man.
The line attached to the helicopter was swinging wildly as the pilot struggled to keep the aircraft level. The small boat rose up to meet the man on the end of the winch then dropped away again. The figure swung first to the right then to the left as the deck kept veering away. Abby knew there was a real possibility that the rescuers might lose their own lives in the attempt to reach the injured skipper.
Suddenly the doctor was on the deck. Quickly he released himself from the harness and the line was reeled back into the helicopter.
Almost unable to breathe, Abby watched him pick his way across the slippery deck, almost losing his balance as the boat shifted wildly in the heavy seas. Moments later another man dropped down from the helicopter, this one with a stretcher. Abby lost sight of the first man as he disappeared from view. Had he slipped overboard?
While she’d been watching, Emma had come into the room. Seeing Abby staring at the screen, she unplugged herself from her MP3 player and sat down next to her.
‘Is that what you’re going to be doing?’ Emma asked. ‘In your new job?’
‘Sometimes,’ Abby admitted. Although she hoped to hell she wouldn’t be involved in anything quite as dangerous as what was going on in front of her. It was one thing being trained to be winched up and down from a helicopter in calm conditions—this was something altogether different.
Emma looked at her wide-eyed. ‘Cool,’ she said.
Thankfully her daughter didn’t seem to appreciate the danger the men were in. That was good: Abby didn’t want Emma worrying about her.
It seemed like hours but it could only have been a few minutes before the stretcher, now loaded with the injured skipper, was being attached to the winch. Abby knew the danger was far from over. The yacht was sinking rapidly. She was amazed that it had managed to stay afloat as long as it had.
Then the men with the stretcher were being lifted back onto the helicopter. As soon as they were on board the aircraft swung away. Seconds later the boat tipped up and with a final surge was engulfed by the waves. Any sooner and it would have taken the three men with it.
‘I understand the mother and two children have been taken to hospital where they are being treated for hypothermia and shock,’ the reporter continued. ‘At this time we have no details about the condition of the skipper except that he is stable. But right now we can give you a live interview with some of the men involved in the daring rescue.’
The drama over, Emma went back to her music and left the room. Before Abby could switch the television off, the camera panned out slightly, revealing two men. One, a man in his fifties, was wearing the jumpsuit of the Royal Navy, the other the fluorescent jacket of a rescue doctor. Both men were smiling broadly, as if what they had just done had been exhilarating—and no more dangerous than a routine training exercise.
But as the camera zoomed closer, it was the younger man, the doctor, that made Abby’s heart leap in her chest. Underneath his five-o’clock shadow there was something disturbingly familiar about his hooked nose and wide grin. But before Abby could get a better look at him the camera, frustratingly, focussed solely on his colleague.
‘I have Sergeant Lightbody with me, who was the winchman involved in the rescue,’ the reporter said.
The older man shifted slightly, looking uncomfortable to find himself on TV.
‘Sergeant Lightbody,’ the newscaster continued, ‘can you tell the viewers at home what it was like out there today? From what I could see, it seemed that you just managed to get the victims off the boat in the nick of time.’
Sergeant Lightbody looked even more ill at ease. ‘It was certainly a little breezy out there. I guess it was one of the more difficult situations we’ve been involved in for a while.’
‘A little breezy? A bit of an understatement, surely? If you and your men hadn’t been able to get these people off, it could’ve ended in tragedy. That all the family members survived is testament to the skill and courage of your team.’
‘It’s what we do.’ Sergeant Lightbody shrugged. ‘Anyway, if it hadn’t been for Dr MacNeil here, we might not have got the skipper off without further injury—if at all.’
The camera shifted to the younger man. He was shaking his head. Despite the hat pulled low on his brow, shadowing his eyes, Abby realised with a jolt that she did recognise him. She didn’t need to check the photograph she had kept for all these years to know that Dr MacNeil was Mac—her dead sister’s lover and Emma’s father!
Her legs shaking, Abby got up and retrieved the remote then froze the screen. She was breathing rapidly as she studied the fuzzy picture. It was him! He was older, yes; there were faint smile lines on either side of his mouth and radiating from the corners of his ice-blue eyes. He had filled out a little, and his hair was shorter, although still sun-bleached at the tips. Still, she would know that wide smile and glinting, expressive gaze anywhere.
She pressed the remote and the picture moved again.
‘Dr MacNeil, could you tell us what happened back there? I understand you work with the Royal Cornwall Air Ambulance team. Is this just another typical day for you?’
Abby’s heart was pounding so hard she could almost hear it. She had found Mac! And not just found him, she was actually going to be working with him. She sank back down on the sofa as her legs threatened to give way beneath her. Thank God Emma had left the room. She would have known immediately that something was wrong, and right now Abby needed to make sense of what she was seeing.
Mac grinned into the camera. Unlike Sergeant Lightbody, he seemed completely at ease. ‘Not exactly a typical day but, yes, the Royal Cornwall Air Ambulance teams up with other rescue services when required. We believe that having immediate medical attention on the scene can often make the difference between life and death.’
‘Even if it means putting your own life at risk?’ The stunning blonde reporter was almost whimpering with admiration.
‘I’m pretty certain the Royal Navy wouldn’t let anything happen to me,’ Mac replied lightly. ‘Besides, they are the real heroes. They do this sort of thing day after day. If it wasn’t for the pilot of the helicopter and his team, we would have never been able to get to the casualties.’
Abby still couldn’t believe what she was seeing. It was ironic, really. Abby had tried desperately to find this man years before without any success, and now he was here, in Penhally, and she’d be working with him!
Incredible to think that the reason they were here in the first place was because Emma didn’t have a father.
A few months ago, just before Emma’s eleventh birthday, Abby had asked her whether she wanted to invite her schoolfriends over for a party. To Abby’s horror, Emma had burst into tears. When she’d eventually managed to calm her down, Emma had admitted that the children at the school had been ostracising her for the last couple of weeks. Only her best friend had still talked to her.
‘But why, darling? Has something happened? You used to have loads of friends.’
Between tears and sobs of anguish Emma had explained that one of the girls had started taunting her about not having a dad.
‘I told them that of course I had a dad,’ Emma had said, indignant. ‘So they asked where he was. When I told them I didn’t know, they made fun of me. They said that I was lying or else I must be a rubbish daughter that my dad didn’t want to know me. I tried to ignore them but they kept coming after me, saying these horrible things.’ She’d looked up at Abby, her blue eyes swimming with tears. ‘I know you’re not my real mum, Mum.’ She’d smiled, realising what she’d said. ‘I mean, you’re my real mum, but not my birth mum. But you’ve never told me who my father is. Why doesn’t he care about me? Why hasn’t he ever come to see me?’
Abby’s heart had ached for her child. Although, as Emma had put it, she wasn’t her biological mother, Emma was hers in every way that counted. She couldn’t love her more had she given birth to her, and Emma being her twin sister Sara’s child simply made the bond closer.
‘I want to know who my dad is,’ Emma had continued quietly. ‘All the other girls at school know who their dad is, so why can’t I?’
Abby had looked into the stormy blue eyes that were so like Sara’s and a lump had formed in her throat. She’d known only too well how Emma had felt.
‘My darling, he probably doesn’t even know you exist.’
‘How can he not know? How could my real mum not have told him?’
Abby winced before she’d begun speaking. ‘Sara was very happy you were going to be born. I guess she didn’t want to share you.’
The truth was that Sara hadn’t wanted Emma’s father to know about the pregnancy. At least not until she discovered that she was going to die. It was only then that she told Abby that Emma’s father was Mac, the windsurfing instructor they had met while on holiday in Mykonos. When Emma was just three months old Abby went back to the Greek island to try to track him down, but it was hopeless. The summer season was over, and the visitors as well as the instructors had long since packed up and left. No one could tell her anything about Mac. Who he was or where he’d gone.
Before Sara died, Abby promised she would raise her daughter as her own. She had kept that promise and even though it hadn’t always been easy, Abby had no regrets. Emma brought such joy to her life.
‘I don’t want to stay at that school, Mum. Please. Can’t I go to a different school when I go to secondary?’
‘It’s not that easy, sweetie. Here in London it’s difficult to find a good school within walking distance. Let me try and sort things out with the school first.’
But despite several visits to the school, the bullying continued. It both angered and saddened Abby to see Emma withdraw more and more into herself, so when Abby saw an ad for an experienced paramedic for the Royal Cornwall Air Ambulance Service, after talking it over with Emma, she decided to apply. Cornwall would be perfect for them. It was near the sea and would suit Emma’s love of the outdoors much better. They were both thrilled to leave London and its sad memories behind. Abby had promised Emma that as soon as they were settled in their new home and she in her job she would continue the search for her father. Little did Abby know then that fate was going to throw them directly in his path, sooner than either of them could possibly have imagined.
Abby retrieved the tattered holiday snap from the sideboard drawer. It had been taken on the last night of her and Sara’s holiday on Mykonos and Abby studied it for what must have been the hundredth time. It was a group photograph, taken on the beach. Mac had his arm draped around Sara, who was laughing up at him. She herself was at the end, a solemn figure with mid-length hair, her eyes hidden behind sunglasses. She doubted if Mac had even been aware that she was there. They had been introduced, of course, but his glance had slid almost immediately straight past Abby to her much more glamorous and fun-loving sister.
She turned to stare at the TV again, almost expecting him to reappear. She still had a week of training to complete before she started her job, so she had some time to think before she came face to face with Dr William MacNeil.
What was she going to tell Emma?
What was she going to say to Mac when they met?
What the hell was she going to do?
CHAPTER TWO
ABBY’S stomach fluttered nervously as she stepped into the base of the Royal Cornwall Air Ambulance Service. Although she had been a trained paramedic for almost twelve years, this would be an altogether different experience. She would be flying to rescues and despite the intensive training she had just undergone, she worried how she would cope with being lowered from a helicopter, particularly in gusty weather. But she was here now and those concerns paled into insignificance in comparison to her anxiety about meeting Mac again.
Ever since she’d seen him on television she’d been agonising over what to do. What if he was married and had a family of his own? What if Mac didn’t want to know about his daughter? That hurt would be too great for the little girl. In which case should she even tell Emma that Mac was here? Did she have the right to keep the truth from Emma?
In the end she decided she wouldn’t say anything to Emma until she’d had a chance to suss Mac out for herself. After all, a bad father was worse than no father at all.
The air ambulance leader, who had interviewed Abby when she’d applied for the job, met her at the door. Paul was in his early fifties with an easy smile and a relaxed and welcoming manner.
‘Abby, we’ve been looking forward to you joining us,’ he said. ‘Did you enjoy your training? The course leader spoke highly of you.’
The course leader might have spoken highly of her, but that meant zilch. How she would cope in a real-life rescue would be what counted.
‘What do think of Penhally Bay? ‘ Paul continued.
‘It’s lovely. I haven’t had too much time to explore yet—what with the course, getting my daughter settled into school and all the unpacking. But I promised Emma that on my first day off we’ll have a proper look around.’
‘It’s a great place for a child to grow up,’ Paul said ‘My kids have long since flown the coop, but they come back whenever they can. Is Emma liking Penhally High? Mine went there and they loved it. I can’t imagine it’s changed too much.’
Abby nodded, managing a small smile. If nothing else, their move here had been the right thing for Emma, at least as far as her new school went. Although her daughter had only been at Penhally High for a short while, she had quickly made new friends and already seemed much happier and settled.
So she was here to stay, and if life had thrown her a curve ball by flinging her directly in Mac’s path, so be it. There was no going back. But until she decided what, if anything, to tell him, she would play her cards close to her chest.
Nevertheless her heart was pounding uncomfortably at the thought of meeting him again. Would he recognise her after all these years? It was unlikely. Her appearance had changed quite a bit and he hadn’t paid her much attention twelve years ago. He had been far too caught up in her twin sister, the glamorous, effervescent Sara.
‘Come up to the office and meet everyone,’ Paul interrupted her thoughts. ‘They’re looking forward to meeting you.’
Her legs like jelly, Abby followed him up a steep flight of steps and into a large room where a number of people were chatting and drinking coffee.
Immediately her eyes were drawn to Mac. He was sitting, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his arms cradling the back of his head as he chatted to a colleague. Like most of the others in the room, he was dressed in an orange jumpsuit, but his was unzipped almost to the waist, revealing a dazzling white T-shirt underneath. There was no disguising his powerful build and Abby felt as if a bird were trapped in her chest.
‘Everyone, I’d like you to meet our latest recruit, Abby Stevens,’ Paul introduced her.
This was the moment she had been dreading. Would Mac remember her? Would he recall Sara’s last name? Had he even known what it was? Although everyone turned to look at her, Abby was unable to stop herself from watching Mac’s reaction. Blue eyes narrowed for a moment as if she had triggered a memory, but then he grinned and jumped to his feet. His eyes swept over her body.
‘I’m Dr William MacNeil. But everyone calls me Mac.’ His grip was firm and to her dismay it felt as if she had touched a live wire. Abby withdrew her hand quickly and turned to greet the other members of the team but not before she’d seen Mac’s puzzled frown.
Abby forced herself to concentrate as she was introduced to the others in the room. Apart from Paul, there were two paramedics, Mike and Jim, a pilot—an older man called Greg—as well as Lucy, another doctor, and Kirsten, whose job it was to take the calls and keep in touch with the ambulance throughout the rescue. They all smiled welcomingly.
Instinctively Abby knew she would enjoy working with this group of people—with one possible exception.
‘Would you mind showing Abby around, Mac?’ Paul asked. ‘I have some paperwork to attend to and Lucy and Mike have just popped in to give us a report on yesterday’s callout.’ Paul turned to Abby. ‘I’ll see you all later.’
‘A car accident on the coastal road,’ Lucy explained as Paul left the room. She was small and plump with bright, intelligent eyes. ‘The driver was going too fast for these roads and hit another car head on.’
‘Any fatalities? ‘ Abby asked.
‘Surprisingly not. Luckily the oncoming car managed to swerve in time. The fire brigade had to use the jaws of life to get the driver out. It took hours and we had to keep him ventilated by hand. He’s still on the critical list, but he’s damned lucky to be alive.’ Lucy glanced at her watch. ‘Time for me to go!’ She held out her hand again. ‘It’s good to have another woman on board, Abby. Kirsten and I get a little overwhelmed by all the testosterone around here, don’t we, Kirsten?’
Kirsten grinned back. ‘Don’t let Lucy kid you—she’s a match for the guys any time.’
Abby glanced across at Mac, who had remained silent throughout the exchange. He was studying Abby as if she puzzled him.
‘Hey, have we met before?’ he asked.
Abby’s pulse beat even faster. Although she and Sara hadn’t been identical twins there had been similarities between them—hazel eyes, straight noses and curvy mouths. But Sara had cropped her hair short and bleached it platinum blonde for their Greek holiday. In contrast, Abby had kept her shoulder length caramel hair tied back in a ponytail and at that time had worn glasses. The two sisters could hardly have looked more different and unsurprisingly Mac had barely glanced at Abby back then. Even if he did recognise her, this was hardly the time or place to tell him about Sara and Emma. Not that she had decided what to tell him.
She forced a smile. ‘I don’t think so.’
He lost the frown and grinned at her. ‘You’re right,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘I would have remembered you. I don’t tend to forget beautiful women.’ He winked at her.
‘And unless you’re losing it, they don’t tend to forget you either. That’s what you mean,’ chipped in Lucy. She turned to Abby, her eyes twinkling. ‘Watch out for our Mac here. We love him to bits, but he’s a heart-breaker. Luckily I’m too old for him and Kirsten’s already taken.’
‘You know I’d take you to dinner any day of the week, Lucy. Just say the word.’ Mac grinned back.
‘Ah, if only,’ Lucy sighed theatrically. She picked up her handbag. ‘I’m out of here.’
‘Me too,’ Kirsten said. ‘I’ve got work to do around here!’
Left alone with Mac, Abby felt as if she had a coiled spring somewhere in her chest. He was still looking at her through half-closed eyes as if she puzzled him. ‘Dr MacNeil,’ she said stiffly. ‘I think we should get on with that tour, don’t you?’
Again there was that heart-stopping grin. ‘Call me Mac. Everyone else does.’
Mac stood back to let Abby go in front of him. He whistled under his breath as he watched the way her bottom swayed as she walked. On anyone else the orange uniform tunic top and matching trousers would have been unflattering, but it could have been tailor made for Abby. And, even apart from her figure which looked as if it had been designed with him in mind, she was a stunner. A man could drown in those eyes and as for the high cheekbones, emphasised by the hint of colour his remarks had brought to her cheeks, he had dated models who would scratch their eyes out for bone structure like that. Even the spattering of freckles over her nose didn’t detract from her beauty—if anything, it made her cuter. He had already checked the third finger of her left hand. No wedding ring. Good. This was going to be interesting.
Mac had only just started showing Abby the little office where Kirsten and her small team fielded the calls when the telephone rang.
Kirsten held up a finger, asking for silence. They listened as she entered a few details into the computer.
‘Try not to worry, love. We’ll have someone there as soon as possible. Stay on the phone while I talk to the doctor.’
She swivelled around in her chair until she was facing Abby and Mac.
‘I have a lady on the line. She’s thirty-four weeks pregnant but thinks she’s gone into early labour. She can’t get herself to the hospital because she’s on a farm and her husband is away with the car.’ Kirsten covered the mouthpiece with her hand. ‘She also tells me she has placenta praevia and was due to be admitted for a Caesarean section in a couple of weeks.’
‘Where is the farm?’ Mac asked. Gone was the laconic man of earlier. In his place was someone who was entirely focussed.
Kirsten pointed to a map. ‘Over here.’
‘What about the local road ambulance?’ Abby asked.
Kirsten shook her head. ‘It’s at least an hour away on these roads and, besides, the woman—she’s called Jenny Hargreaves—says the track to the farm is pretty impassable for anything except a four-by-four. We’ve had some heavy rain over the last fortnight.’
‘We need to get her to the maternity unit as fast as possible,’ Mac said. ‘Okay, Kirsten, get Greg to fire the ‘copter up and tell Jenny we’re on our way. Is there anyone with her who can help? A friend? A neighbour?’
Kirsten shook her head. ‘She’s on her own, apart from her nine-year-old son.’
‘Get him on the line and keep him there. Then phone St Piran’s and bring them up to speed. Could you make sure we have an incubator for the baby on board, too? C’mon, Abby. I guess you’re on. Let’s go and get kitted up.’
As Abby raced after him down the steps and into the cloakroom where their gear was kept, she ran through what she knew about placenta praevia. And what she did know didn’t make her feel any better.
‘Not good news, is it?’ she said as Mac passed her a jacket.
‘Tell me what you know about the condition.’
‘Placenta praevia is where the placenta is lying in front of the baby, blocking the birth canal. I know it can cause massive, even fatal bleeding if left untreated. If she’s already in labour, we don’t have much time.’ Although they had covered complications of childbirth in their training, until Sara it hadn’t crossed Abby’s mind that it could really happen. Now she knew better. Please, God, don’t let this first call end in disaster.
‘Do we have an obstetrician on call?’ she asked.
‘At St Piran’s. Kirsten will patch us through as soon as we’re airborne. There’s no time to wait, though.’ Mac stopped for a moment and rested his hands on her shoulders. He looked directly into her eyes. ‘Are you going to be okay?’ His look was calm, reassuring. Everything about him radiated confidence and Abby relaxed a little.
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